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Curling over the bowl, he retched again, hands shaking. He didn’t remember waking up; he didn’t remember getting home, or what might have happened after his tenth beer last night. He hoped it was only a night — he had a big meeting with the boss this morning.

It wouldn’t be the first time he’d lost days of time down the bottom of a bottle.

“Get your shit together, Val.” He spat into the bowl, bracing himself on the edge of the porcelain. Standing up shakily, he felt the nausea rise and curled back over, retching again. He failed to get his tie out of the way this time, and it came back out of the bowl covered in —

How in God’s name was he wearing a tie? He didn’t even have any pants.

He tried standing again, this time managing to get to his feet. Holding himself up on the walls of the toilet, he controlled the shuddering, awful urge to throw up. He spat into the bowl again then hit the flush button.

Slowly — and quietly — he made his way out of the toilet and into the bathroom. He caught a glimpse of stubble in the mirror on the wall and felt confident it was only a night gone. Maybe if he could just get in to the office before nine — God, what time is it now? — it’d be ok.

He pulled back the mirror, his fleshy reflection pushed aside as he exposed a collection of white bottles set against a backdrop of tired cardboard boxes, tubes of expired ointment, and half-empty boxes of Band-Aids. The bulk box of store-brand acetaminophen came away disturbingly light — I bought that just last week — and he tossed the empty hundred box to the ground, hand trembling towards the Pentazine. Expensive gold, he dry-swallowed four of the tabs. Motion sickness be damned; the drug would take the edge off wanting to throw up his feet. He chased it with some ibuprofen, a generic brand in a white box of fifty.

He started up a good lather to get rid of the stubble. It was then he noticed that his left arm’s shirt sleeve was missing, ripped off by the looks of it. The shirt wasn’t in great shape overall; it had that creaseless arrogance that only came with being rained on. The sleeve was missing from the elbow down, give or take, the frayed end of a blue thread trailing to wrist level. He’d been lying in a pool of good Merlot unless he missed his guess, the sleeve and side of the shirt a gentle pink. The thought of Merlot almost made him heave the pills back up, so he stripped off the shirt and let it drop to the floor alongside the empty box. If he just left all that crap there Baitan would sort it out later.

His belly wasn’t an admirable sight, the booze and the desk job leaving their toll, the flab hanging out over his underwear. John kept nagging him like an old woman, saying he needed to get back to the gym, do some exercise. There was time for that later — it was important to get more drugs, and maybe shave, if he was going to get to work today.

Focus, Val.

Valentine’s an ordinary guy with ordinary problems. His boss is an asshole. He’s an alcoholic. And he’s getting that middle age spread just a bit too early. One night — the one night he can’t remember — changes everything. What happened at the popular downtown bar, The Elephant Blues? Why is Biomne, the largest pharmaceutical company in the world, so interested in him — and the virus he carries? How is he getting stronger, faster, and more fit? And what’s the connection between Valentine and the criminally insane Russian, Volk?

“Guys, would you excuse me for a moment. Daphne teased biting her lower lip in an adorable half smile. Jack, I’ve got something to show you.” Her voiced pitched as she trained her pretty eyes toward mine anticipating my reaction.

“Nice, Honey. While you’re out there…tell the V.P.—we’ll meet with her on Monday.”

“Sweetie, just fit her in the best you can—between something else – we might as well get it over with. Ten minutes tops.”

Daphne leaned into my side to whisper, “Okay, I’ll be right back,” I couldn’t see them, but I imagined her raising her perfectly brushed brows. She leaned in closer, her pretty voice got softer, “With a surprise – I’m just dying to show you the dress I bought for the wedding.” Her breasts and tummy pressed against my arm as she tenderly whispered the words.

Daphne was generous with her touch and rubbed into me. I’ve never met a girl more comfortable in her own skin. Placing one hand firmly on my leg, she squeezed, delicately leaving the chair, before performing her usual sexy slink toward the door. This girl couldn’t help being beautiful!

Alone together, Alyson piped up, “That’s why woman hate her, Jack.” She added shaking her head gently against my chest, “That walk – it’s like she’s always trying to turn you on. Every minute she’s around you – she never let’s up. She’s so competitive – do you see it? And,—thatvoice – nobody talks like that!”

I put both arms around Alyson and held tighter to reassure her, “Honey, – this job would kill me if I didn’t have you girls to take the edge off.” She seemed satisfied to hear me excuse Daphne’s sultry antics. We sat quietly a moment before she started fidgeting with the ends of her dress.

“I’m sorry, Jack – you must think I’m just as bad the way my dress is riding up. It’s so short to begin with – I wore it for you.”

“Don’t ever worry about me, – you’re a wonderful distraction.”

“You know what – the heck with it then, I’ll just let it ride up so you can see the tops of my thighs.” She giggled.

“They’re beautiful. I just don’t want to take advantage of you.”

Alyson snuggled closer, getting more comfortable, “Really, Jack? It’s my body and I want you to see it. For that matter these are my lips,” I felt a trace of lip-gloss, scented cherry.

“My mouth wanted to kiss you.”

“Yeah?” I said a bit too softly, wishing I’d said it in a deeper tone. Rubbing her arms, feeling tender towards her. “It’s sort of funny, your body does whatever it wants.”

She giggled and smiled, “I guess.”

“Okay, I’m good, Sweetie.”

“Hey, Jack? What ever happened to Elsa?” Changing the subject.

“Elsa? We located her shoes. We found them in a Greek brothel. The girl that had them told our crew Elsa was auctioned off to a Saudi Sheik.”

“Oh my God.” Alyson covered her mouth.

“No, that’s good news because chances are she’ll still be alive when we go get her.”

“You’re going after her?”

“We sure are. Tip has your dad training on weapons and systems right now. It’s going to take him a few days to get him back up to speed. He’s been out of commission for a while, but as soon as he is ready he’s heading over there to rescue her.”

“Jack, do you think the sheik will just hand her over?”

“No, it’s going to be messy, we’ll have to wreck the place, but we’re sending a message. The only thing that matters is that Elsa will be coming home. And, girls like her will be safe. We’re going to stop human slavery once and for all.”

“What about in the U.S., Jack?”

“Here it’s a different story – we need to beef up law enforcement. We already have the means to stop trafficking, but it’s been allowed to go on.”

“Why?” Alyson asked in disbelief.

“Tip would be angry for me telling you – for your own sake, Sweetheart—you really don’t want to know…” Just as I was about to spill it—Daphne saved me from having to explain any further. Sauntering in wearing a peach form fitting tube dress—flattering her knock out figure to lengths I hadn’t ever allowed my mind to go. All-over- glitter silver stilettos shining over glossy black platforms gave her a statuesque long-legged appearance. She made her way toward me stopping short in the middle of the room. Daphne had a way of making love with her eyes.

Two months have passed since the long awaited inauguration of the New President of the United States – Jack Canon. Now he must live up to his promises. The World is wounded, people are hurting, the new President must keep the country afloat. Jack leads a very full life – The first couple’s relationship is hot with passion, but he can never admit that to Sandy, his best friend who is also head over heels in love with him. The Women of the House provide a welcome distraction while helping with the arduous task of running the country.

As President Jack must make tough decisions: Global Terrorism, Human Trafficking, Korea on the brink of war, all while thwarting International Greed. Women of the House is a story of noble sacrifice at extremely high cost. Who’s going to be the first to be strong enough and willing to pay? It’s not all work in Women of the House – Think the Wedding of the Decade meets the Crime of the Century.

Jack Canon’s Women of the House, is a story filled with Love, Lust, and Loyalty where passions can run wild! In Sandora’s monumental sequel, patriotism and valor mingle with an undying love that refuses to quit. Ride along as Jack Canon fights back against the most evil people on the planet. Readers are sure to embrace this unforgettable tale which will appeal to fans of political adventure, suspense and romance alike. Jack Canon’s Women of the House is a story of kindness, passion and courage that can’t be separated.

The astrological parts in the book are real; I read on the subject and consulted with specialist in this area.

How long have you been writing?

I always loved to read and you could see me carry a book everywhere, but never considered writing until 2011 when the idea first appeared in my mind and it grew a life of itself and I began writing and needing to do it every day in it I found one of the great joys in my life.

Who is your favorite character in your book and why?

Oh my! This is a difficult question because I feel in love with so many of the characters in their virtues and flaws. But in my heart I guess with Amelia.

Do you read much and if so who are your favorite authors?

I love to read. There are many authors that are my favorite Vanessa Diffenbaugh, Paula McLain, Maria Semple among others.

What is your dream for your writing?

My deepest desire is that my writing touches and inspires the people who read my books.

How about your least favorite character? What makes them less appealing to you?

In my previous novel that would have been a very easy answer with one or two characters there. However in this one it’s hard to say, because they all had facets to them that made them human and likeable or should I say relatable in the end.

Have you started another book yet?

Not officially but I already have the outline in mind.

What is it about?

It deals with friendship between three women, the love that binds them together and the struggles they keep inside that will of course, be challenged.

What was the most challenging part about writing your book?

Trying to get the mother-daughter relationship imperfectly right.

What contributes to making a writer successful?

I think you can work on your trade, read, study. But in the end, it’s kind of intangible. When you correctly pour your soul into words you can achieve that kind of greatness.

Do you have any specific last thoughts that you want to say to your readers?

“Thank you” would be the first thing that I always say to them and write in the acknowledgments, for allowing me the privilege of their time.

I feel honored when readers send me messages in Facebook, Pinn some of my thoughts on Pinterest and take the time to post reviews of the book on Amazon and Goodreads. To know by readers that my books have affected their life is one of the most joyous moments…. Thank you.

Can anything good follow the best thing that ever happened to you?

Amelia Weiss loved her husband of thirty-five years very much, but now he’s left her a widow. Without him, she is unable to work in her sculpture studio without crying. She no longer has a bridge to her estranged daughter. And she can’t seem to keep her mind in the present.

But when her daughter reaches out asking for her help and her agent threatens a lawsuit if Amelia doesn’t deliver for an upcoming exhibit, she’s forced to make a choice. Will she reengage with her life and the people in it—allowing room for things to be different than they were before? Or, will she remain stuck in the past, choosing her memories over real-life relationships?

Thrust fully into the present, Amelia stumbles into a surprising journey of self-discovery.

The king returned to his throne and bellowed his next words so that they reverberated off the walls of the cavernous hall.

“Stand and accept what you were born to be, my son.”

“Never.”

“Like I said, it’s not a choice.”

Carden reached toward him and clenched his hand into a fist. Braeden’s stomach tightened, as if his father had reached into his gut and squeezed. He curled over himself, stifling the agonizing yell in his throat.

The king twisted his hand and opened his palm, where sparks snapped and fizzled. Braeden’s muscles tore at the movement. Popping noises surged along his biceps and neck. His veins chilled and slowed. He unconsciously stood at a twitch of Carden’s finger. Braeden’s grip on his form was slipping. Smoke escaped his pores. Organs shifted. He screamed in pain until a heavy weight fell on his chest and closed his throat.

“Screams are for the weak,” Carden said.

The weight eased off Braeden’s lungs, letting him sink back to the floor as the internal tearing and popping stopped. The staggering numbness returned. His cuffs twisted as he moved, and searing fire coursed through his veins. Tremors pulsed through him.

Carden scowled from his chair, and the green lizard from earlier peered from the shadows beside the throne. Its outline blurred for a moment, but returned to normal so quickly that Braeden questioned what he’d seen.

It flickered again, more prominently this time.

Dark lines melted around its face. It grew taller, its skin stretching and pouring into the space around it. In a matter of seconds, the lizard filled the massive hall as it transformed into a dragon.

Braeden’s mouth went dry.

The dragon reared its head above the stunned hall and roared. The creature’s tail landed squarely on Carden’s chest, sending him flying into a support column by the main entry. The pillar crumbled on top of the king, burying him, and the dome it supported shattered. The dragon thrashed its wings against the walls by the thrones. Chunks of black marble pummeled downward, cracking the polished floor. Glass rained down on the cloaked subjects. A stampede began for the door.

A new, shriller roar echoed through the great hall, shooting chills through Braeden’s body. A red dragon with a long black stripe down its spine stood over Kara, baring its thick teeth. One dragon was bad enough, but two would be unstoppable. He tried to stand, to run, to possibly escape and at minimum find cover, but one of the spikes shifted and lodged into his bone. The pain buckled his knees.

Another patch in the ceiling crumbled. Pebbles and thick shards of painted glass showered to the floor. What yakona remained fled. Braeden grit his teeth, forced himself to his feet, and staggered to the edge of the hall.

Two thick claws engulfed him, pulling him into the air and pressing the spikes deeper into his hands with a single, deft motion. He cried out as the throbbing agony pulsed through his arms. Shimmering green scales blotted out the sky. The red dragon appeared in the air beside them, Kara tucked away in its claws.

The familiar weight of his father’s control returned on Braeden’s chest. Hatred coursed through his mind like a fever. He turned to the floor. Carden lay trapped beneath the rubble, a shredded look of fury consuming his gray face, and Braeden lost himself to the final ounces of his father’s remaining energy.

Kill the dragon, he was told. Rip it apart. Return.

He writhed, consumed by his father’s commands, but the green dragon clutched him tighter until the pain of the poisoned cuffs outweighed even his father’s will. He dangled in the dragon’s claws and watched the Stele recede from sight.

“The writing is flawless. The kingdoms and surrounding landscapes breathtaking. The Grimoire is a piece of imaginative genius that bedazzles from the moment Kara falls into the land of Ourea. – Nikki Jefford, author of the Spellbound Trilogy

Now an international Amazon bestseller. Fans of The Hobbit, The Lord of the Rings, and Eragon will enjoy this contemporary remix of the classic epic fantasy genre.

—————-

Kara Magari is about to discover a beautiful world full of terrifying things: Ourea.

Kara, a college student still reeling from her mother’s recent death, has no idea the hidden world of Ourea even exists until a freak storm traps her in a sunken library. With nothing to do, she opens an ancient book of magic called the Grimoire and unwittingly becomes its master, which means Kara now wields the cursed book’s untamed power. Discovered by Ourea’s royalty, she becomes an unwilling pawn in a generations-old conflict – a war intensified by her arrival. In this world of chilling creatures and betrayal, Kara shouldn’t trust anyone… but she’s being hunted and can’t survive on her own. She drops her guard when Braeden, a native soldier with a dark secret, vows to keep her safe. And though she doesn’t know it, her growing attraction to him may just be her undoing.

For twelve years, Braeden Drakonin has lived a lie. The Grimoire is his one chance at redemption, and it lands in his lap when Kara Magari comes into his life. Though he begins to care for this human girl, there is something he wants more. He wants the Grimoire.

If you want to get me going then start talking to me about cruelty to animals

What makes you angry?

Cruelty.

What’s your most embarrassing moment of your life?

If I tell you then I would be compounding the moment, wouldn’t I? LOL. If someone tells you their most embarrassing moment then that is probably not their most embarrassing moment.

Are you a city slicker or a country lover?

Without any doubt – country lover

How do you think people perceive writers?

It used to be slightly dotty recluses with a burning ambition to write, but things have changed since Amazon came along. Now authors seem to be wily marketers who can also write.

What’s your next project?

Part 3 of The Billionaire Banker series – Besotted.

What would you love to produce in your life?

Something uplifting.

What’s the reason for your life? Have you figured out your reason for being here yet?

No. The ultimate pointlessness of life has never ceased to sadden me.

How do you feel about self-publishing?

I benefit from it so it is hard to be critical but in the wake of every great thing is the seed of its own destruction.

Do you know your neighbors?

Yup.

Beyond the seductive power of immense wealth lies… Dark Secrets

Devastatingly handsome billionaire, Blake Law Barrington was Lana Blooms first and only love. From the moment they touched his power was overwhelming. Their arrangement quickly developed into a passionate romance that captivated her heart and took her on an incredible sexual journey she never wanted to end.

The future together looked bright until Lana made a terrible mistake. So, she did the only thing she could… she ran.

Away from her incredible life, away from the man of her dreams, but she should have known a man such as Blake Law Barrington was impossible to escape. Now, he’s back in her life and determined that she should taste the bitterness of his pain.

Shocked at how rough the sex has become and humiliated that she is actually participating so willingly in her punishment, she despairs if she will ever feel the warmth of his touch–the solidity of his trust again? And even if she can win his trust, loyalties are yet to be decided, and secrets to be revealed–secrets that will test them both to their limits.

Will Lana be able to tear down the walls that surround Blake’s heart, and break him free of the brutal power of immense wealth?

Can Blake hold on to Lana’s heart when she discovers the enormity of the dark secrets that inhabit the Barrington family?

Lana has always believed that love conquers all. She is about to test that belief…

Some books are good and then others WOW you like never before, this book falls in the latter category. McCauley’s writing style was able to capture every emotion from each character and left you feeling the same things they were feeling.

With every page turn, you inched closer to the conclusion, never giving up hope that Tray’s life would take a turn for the better. Despite his weaknesses, Tray is a gripping personality likened to Nicholas Cage / John Travolta in Face Off.

McCauley offers detailed settings, descriptions of what is happening to the point of being harrowing and yet moving. I could hardly put this book down as the plot and strong characters came to life. I especially liked the dialogue and the snarky tone that some of the characters had like, “when you are Colombian you lose a lot of your family.”

Despite getting a sometimes violent look at the darker side of humanity, this book took me in from the very first page. I highly recommend this book with as many stars as I can give it and I’ll be looking out for more books by McCauley.

Disclosure – As a Quality Reads Book Club member, I received a free copy of this book from the author via Orangeberry Book Tours in exchange for my honest review.

Haunted by memories of his massacred settlement, sixteen-year-old Weaver seeks cover in a hidden refuge among the remains of a ruined city. In the midst of building a new life, Weaver discovers that he has the amazing power to cast his dreams into reality. Convinced it’s just an anomaly, Weaver ignores it. That is until he learns of a mysterious man who shares the ability, and uses his power to bring nightmares into existence and wage war on the world. The peaceful life Weaver hoped for begins to unravel as waves of chaos begin to break loose about him. In a race against time, Weaver must learn to accept his role as a dream caster and master his new power, before his new home is destroyed and humanity is pushed to the brink of extinction.